


Never Let Me Go

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: Unfinished Business [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Doomed Relationship, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Murder-Suicide, Sexual Experimentation, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: It starts when Sansa is twelve. Her body has changed and men have begun to notice her, they watch her with a peculiar look in their eyes which to her shock resembles something like hunger. Yet there is one set of eyes that always seems to follow her, but doesn't really bother her. She knows she should be alarmed, a little repulsed even. After all Jon is her half-brother, and a bastard to make things worse. But Sansa can't help the flutter in her stomach nor the warmth in her chest whenever he's close. Jon rarely smiles, but when he sees her, he does and she likes the way it lights up his eyes as a blush creeps up his cheeks. Sansa may not be able to put a name to it, but deep down she understands it well enough. She never acts on this knowledge though. And Jon is too shy or perhaps too smart to do so either.





	1. Chapter 1

It starts when Sansa is twelve. Her body has changed and men have begun to notice her, they watch her with a peculiar look in their eyes which to her shock resembles something like hunger. Yet there is one set of eyes that always seems to follow her, but doesn't really bother her. She knows she should be alarmed, a little repulsed even. After all Jon is her half-brother, and a bastard to make things worse. But Sansa can't help the flutter in her stomach nor the warmth in her chest whenever he's close. Jon rarely smiles, but when he sees her, he does and she likes the way it lights up his eyes as a blush creeps up his cheeks. Sansa may not be able to put a name to it, but deep down she understands it well enough. She never acts on this knowledge though. And Jon is too shy or perhaps too smart to do so either. 

* * *

  

More than a year has passed since Sansa's revelation about Jon and for the last few months Winterfell has been flooded with visitors. All of them come with the same purpose, to ask Lord Stark for his daughter's hand. Sansa finds herself at feasts in the Great Hall almost weekly, enjoying the company of her suitors. She dances and eats lemoncakes. She accepts gifts and listens to stories that are clearly meant to impress her. She laughs at their jokes and lets them kiss her hand. Yet she can never seem to keep focused on them. Her eyes always wander to the shadows and dark corners, where she knows she'll find Jon. He rarely smiles now, he just frowns as he downs another cup of ale. Some nights he leaves long before the feast is over and Sansa finds herself wondering where he might have gone. 

One night, a few weeks after her fourteenth nameday, she's dancing with a handsome young knight from the Vale. His eyes are impossibly blue and when he smiles, dimples appear in his cheeks. His hand is hot on her back as his fingers cling to the fabric of her gown. As he slides it down just a little too low to still be called proper, she whirls around and meets Jon's murderous glare. When her eyes dart down, she sees his hand is on the dagger he keeps strapped to his belt. She takes a startled step back and excuses herself, claiming she needs some air. When she looks up, Jon is gone.

As she leans her head back against a wall just outside the door, she hears footsteps approaching. She half expects it to be Jon and she can feel the excitement bubbling up in her belly. To her disappointment, it's the young Vale knight. She can't remember his name, it might be Harrold or Arnulf or something. He grins and calls out to her: "There you are, Lady Sansa!"

She offers him a polite smile back. He comes closer until he is right in front of her, driving her back against the wall as he stands smiling down at her. Suddenly his mouth is covering hers and he forces his tongue between her lips. Sansa gasps, unwillingly lending him more access. His hands are moving up her bodice until they grab her breasts, but her scream is muffled by his mouth. When she closes her teeth on his tongue, she is finally able to push him away and she runs without thinking where she's going.

Jon finds her in the Godswood, sitting on the roots of the Heart Tree. She cringes back at his approach, until she recognizes his face. He kneels down in front of her, face guarded and brows knitted together over his dark eyes. She grabs his hand and squeezes it so hard it must be uncomfortable. "Sansa," he whispers, "you should get inside, it's cold."

Sansa blinks in confusion and realizes she's come out here only wearing her thin dress. A shiver runs down her spine. _It is cold._ She nods and pushes herself to her feet. He tries to pull back his hand and she releases it reluctantly. He unties his own cloak to drape it over her shoulders. She's never been this close to him. She can feel the heat coming off his body. His hand comes up until his thumb brushes her bottom lip. Sansa blushes, realizing her heart has started to beat so loudly he must certainly be able to hear it. He swallows and murmurs: "Apologies... You have blood on your lip."

Sansa makes an absent attempt to rub it away, noticing that Jon's eyes are still on her mouth. She doesn't say a word as he walks her back to the castle. When she crawls into bed that evening, she realizes she can still feel the burn of his touch on her lips. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to finish this in two long chapters, but I decided to go with shorter ones.

When Sansa tells Jeyne about the incident with the knight, her friend clasps a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. Sansa glares at her. Septa Mordane will only be gone for a couple of minutes, so she doesn't have much time to get a decent answer out of Jeyne. Sansa demands to know what she finds so laughable about it. "Well, he was only trying to kiss you!"

Sansa purses her lips. It's not as if she didn't know that, but she always imagined it to be different. "I thought kissing was supposed to be nice! It didn't feel nice at all! He just grabbed me and put his tongue in my mouth!"

Jeyne studies her nails for a moment before responding: "So he surprised you?"

"I was startled, yes."

"That's because you didn't know what to expect," she whispers as she takes Sansa's hand. "You need to practise."

She gasps. "Practise kissing? And who should I practise with? Have you?"

Jeyne is gloating now, smug in her discovery that she's more experienced at something than Sansa, no doubt. "Yes. I kissed Theon once. Perhaps you could ask him to kiss you too?"

Sansa scrunches her nose. "Theon? Are you mad, Jeyne?"

She juts her chin out. "He's older. And very experienced."

Sansa only nods back vaguely, trying to focus on the rose she's embroidering into a handkerchief. She replays the kiss in her mind, but tries to put Jon in the Vale knight's place. She can't really imagine it, she only remembers the way his thumb brushed her lip. His touch was light and so gentle. Would his kiss be like that too?

She shakes her head and looks up, scanning the room, as if someone might have heard what she was thinking only a few moments ago. They would call her depraved and sick. The Septa would be ashamed, urging her to pray to the Maiden and the Crone for guidance and to the Mother and the Father for forgiveness. Mother would pull out her own hair and scream until her voice was gone.

Still Sansa can't stop her mind from conjuring up Jon's face. His lips certainly look very soft. She wonders whether Jon had much experience. She feels a pang at the idea of him kissing another girl. But Jeyne says experience is a good thing. Would he mind that she didn't know what to do? She'd ask him to go slow, hold her face instead of grabbing her breasts immediately.

She shoots another panicked look around the room. Is she seriously considering kissing Jon Snow? She tries to hide the blush creeping up her neck and face. Jeyne offers her a wide grin, cocking an eyebrow. Sansa takes a deep breath to collect herself.  _She probably thinks I'm imagining kissing Theon._ As long as she doesn't tell him, Sansa doesn't really mind.  _Let her think._ She squares her shoulders and smiles back sweetly, revelling in her little secret.


	3. Chapter 3

Septa Mordane has to keep to her bed for a couple of days, she's been struck with a fever. Sansa sits by her window, wondering what to do with all her free time, when she hears laughs coming from the training yard. Theon is lying on his back in the mud and Jon is standing over him. She can't help the smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. As if he can feel her eyes on him, he turns his head up and their gazes lock. He grins back at her.

She hasn't watched her brothers and the other young men spar for a while, so she decides to head out to have a closer look. When she arrives at the training yard, Jon is paired with Robb. After a couple of minutes, Sansa realizes that Jon is better than Robb, much better. Normally she doesn't care much for fighting, it scares her a little, but this is different. She's never seen Jon dance, but she's certain he would be good at it. He moves with such elegance.

His feet are sure, it looks as if the sword he's holding is part of him and he's incredibly fast too. She knows Robb is not bad either, far from it, but she thinks he's no match for Jon. She is proven right, Jon makes his attack and Robb follows to parry him, but he's surprised by Jon's change of direction at the last moment and his sword is flung across the yard.

"That's cheating, Snow!"

Jon barks out a laugh, picking up the swords and putting them away. "As if I need to cheat to beat you, Stark!"

Sansa takes a few steps forward, clapping her hands enthusiastically. They both turn their heads to her. "Traitor," Robb says with a scowl on his face. She glares at him and turns away, beaming at Jon. "I didn't realize you were such a great swordsman, Jon. You were very impressive."

She can see Robb's slightly amused frown from the corner of her eye, but she doesn't pay him any attention.  _There it is._ Jonsmiles and a blush makes its way up to his cheeks. "Thank you, my lady."

"I would like to take a walk in the Godswood. Will you accompany me, Jon?"

He stares at her for a moment, as if he hasn't understood her question, but then blinks and offers her his arm. She takes it, marveling at how warm he feels. She notices a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach. When they enter the Godswood, Sansa gathers all of her courage. She wasn't planning this, but she can't stop herself now. "Jon, do you love me?"

He stops with a surprised look on his face. "Of course, you're my sister!"

Sansa bites her lip. Guilt twists her stomach into a knot. "I- I just thought... I haven't been very nice to you..."

He lets go of her arm and looks at his feet, kicking up some leaves. "It must be difficult for you. You love your Lady Mother very much."

She forces herself to look at him. "So do Robb and Arya. And Bran and Rickon. They've never been cruel to you."

Jon takes a step toward her, lifting his arms, letting them hover in the space between them, as if he's unsure what to do with them. " _You_ 've never been cruel to me, Sansa."

He takes her hand and squeezes it. "Perhaps not, but it was unkind of me to ignore you for such a long time. Can you forgive me?"

"I don't think you've been ignoring me," he blurts out, his words coming out so fast they almost blur together. He releases her hand as his face flushes a bright red. "There's- there's nothing to forgive," he stammers. Sansa feels the heat rise in her own cheeks and she offers him a little smile before extending her arm so he can take it again. They continue their walk.

Sansa remains silent for a long time, trying to ignore the feeling of her heart beating in her throat. She takes a few deep breaths to steady herself and risks a glance at Jon's face. It's his smile that encourages her. "If I asked you to do something for me, Jon, would you do it? Even... Even if my request was a little odd?"

His expression changes from confusion to curiosity and back, but eventually he nods. She swallows the lump in her throat. "I would like you to kiss me."

Jon goes rigid at her side and she can hear his sharp intake of breath. She turns to face him, taking in his startled expression. He moves back and forth before inclining his head to press a quick peck to her left cheek. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rise at the closeness of his body and her skin tingles under the softness of his lips, but eventually annoyance and disappointment win. "That's not what I meant, Jon."

His eyes travel over her face, wide and alarmed. He licks his lips repeatedly, as his chest rises and falls quickly, moved up and down by his panting breaths, and starts leaning in. "I know. I can't. I have to think about it," he croaks out, before whirling around and practically running away from her. 

 


End file.
